


Won't be Warm 'til I'm Lying in Your Arms

by elfin (crazylittleelf)



Category: Fringe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-04
Updated: 2011-11-04
Packaged: 2017-10-25 20:46:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazylittleelf/pseuds/elfin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Won't be Warm 'til I'm Lying in Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Continuation of see through a telescope by [](http://monanotlisa.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**monanotlisa**](http://monanotlisa.dreamwidth.org/) for the [](http://fringe-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**fringe_kinkmeme**](http://fringe-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/) [prompt](http://fringe-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/508.html?thread=174588#cmt174588) "Lincoln (either one) puts himself up as a date in a charity auction. Who buys him?"

Lincoln arrived promptly, of course, standing on her door step in crisply pressed pants and a dark polo that were just a shade into the business side of causal. Still, Olivia thought, nice. The light dress she was wearing wasn't exactly casual either, nor was it typical, and the brief widening of his eyes and the sweep of his gaze down her body made her glad of the choice. The blush when he met her eyes again was a lovely bonus.

"Uh. Hi."

"Hi, Lincoln."

"Ready?"

She hummed in agreement and locked the door behind her, grinning when Lincoln offered her his arm.

"I was worried that it might rain - that the show would be canceled, but it looks like it'll hold off until tomorrow at least."

"Worried? Haven't you been praying to the rain gods to get you out of your obligation?"

He held the door of the car open for her, head ducked and looking up through dark lashes. "For anyone else, maybe."

*****

The evening was warm, and the walk to the Common leisurely since parking came with the reservation. Lincoln tucked a little cooler under one arm and handed her a rolled-up blanket. "We can rent chairs if you want. I live in a fourth-floor studio, so I don't have a lawn, let alone lawn chairs."

Olivia lifted the blanket a little. "This is good."

"Have you been before?"

"Once, right after I moved here. I just haven't made time since then."

"Busy protecting the world from bug-monsters and killer plants?"

"Something like that." She grinned at him sidelong. "You play the _harp_?"

Lincoln took the blanket from her and spread it with a flourish. "I _knew_ Astrid wasn't going to keep that to herself, the liar. You two were in on this together from the start, weren't you?"

Olivia grinned and sat, tucking her legs under her. "Agent Lee, are you accusing me of conspiring against you?"

"Yes." He arranged the contents of the cooler into a picture perfect picnic - sandwiches with the crusts cut off, strawberries and grapes neatly quartered, tiny chocolate bars. "I'm willing to forgive you since you did rescue me."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "I _bought_ you."

He winked. "I made you little sandwiches."

"You did. These are good."

"I'm pretty good at making breakfast, too."

She shot a startled glance at him, and the shy smile on his lips made her smile in return.

They finished eating in comfortable silence, Lincoln offering to take the cooler back to the car to get it out of the way. While he was gone Olivia stretched out of the blanket, brushing her dress down over her legs. She propped her head up on one arm and watched the stage technicians, watched the spaces around them filling in with spectators, watched twilight creep over the Common. Lincoln stretched out behind her when he returned, arm extended so she could pillow her head on it. Lincoln fidgeted a little, trying to work out where to put his arm - tucking it between them, stretched along his thigh before resting his hand on her hip.

"Comfy?"

She leaned back and smiled up at him. "Yes, very."

The motion pressed her shoulder to his chest, and she scooted back, removing the space between them, settling against him just as the witches took the stage to the sound of theatrical thunder. The sideways perspective of the stage was distracting, but not nearly so as the man behind her, and Olivia's attention drifted to the sound of Lincoln's breathing, the subtle smell of him - spice and citrus and musk, the tiny circles his fingers were rubbing on her hip.

Deep thunder, real and shaking, heralded the beginning of the 4th act, and Olivia shivered and pressed back against Lincoln. His fingers tightened on her hip, just slightly before splaying across her stomach. His breath tickled her ear.

"Cold?"

And she wasn't, not a tiny bit, but she shivered again just the same.

The sky opened mid-way through Act 5, chasing actors from the battle and audience from the Common. Lincoln held the blanket over them in a vain attempt to keep them dry and they dashed towards the car. She leaned against the side of he car, laughing while he fumbled with his keys.

His eyes lingered where the wet fabric of her dress tangled around her legs. She curled her fingers into the front of his shirt, curled into his warmth, fingers slipping over wet cloth to pull him closer. She was breathless when they broke apart. "Home."

The rain was nearly blinding, lashing across the windshield in waves. When Lincoln fished an umbrella out of the backseat, Olivia laughed.

"No need to sacrifice that to the wind on my behalf."

Their clothes made a sodden pile on the tile entry way. Lincoln's mouth felt like fire on her cold skin, fingers burning into her as she pulled him to her bed.

She pressed him down and he smiled up at her, sweetly vulnerable without his glasses, warm and solid beneath her. He cupped the swell of her hips, around her back with gentle pressure to pull her down. Her wet hair stuck to her shoulders when she bent to kiss him, light brushes of her lips, little nips until he was breathing her name, the sound rising to a whine as she held him steady and let gravity pull them together.

She moved slowly, taking her time and Lincoln matched her pace, his eyes half-closed, kissing her throat, her shoulder. They rocked slowly, sensation building between them, heat that spread along their nerves and sang in their blood until were both trembling, crying out into each other's mouth.

When his breathing evened out, Olivia wiggled closer and his arm tightened around her waist. She nuzzled his ear, nipping at the delicate shell before whispering, "Tomorrow, I own you."


End file.
